


blood on his mind (blood on his hands)

by summerdayghost



Category: Daredevil (Comics), Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: 1960s, Anger, Dubious Morality, First Kiss, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 05:45:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16655341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerdayghost/pseuds/summerdayghost
Summary: Peter was quiet. Nothing good ever came of that.





	blood on his mind (blood on his hands)

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for fail_fandomanon’s 100 words of first kisses. I think this exceeds 100 words by just a little bit.

If every night was a great night they would all be terrible by default. Foggy had said something like that once back in law school when Matt had been gloomier than usual. The original phrasing was probably entirely different, warped by the years, and Matt hadn’t even appreciated the sentiment at the time but now he tried his best to remember it.

Despair had always been more Matt’s speed than optimism, but he needed something to keep his standards in check. Most nights he didn’t do enough. He wished he could be better, but it wasn’t like he could just abandon his waking life. He did plenty of important things as a lawyer. So he just had to make sure that the nights he did do enough meant something to him.

Some nights, however, were failures no matter how you looked at them. This was one of those nights. Matt was sitting in his apartment drinking whiskey from the bottle. In a perfect world he would still be out on patrol, but that perfect world also included a Foggy who wouldn’t be upset with him if he showed up in court tomorrow sort of dying and a Karen who wouldn’t ask inconvenient questions.

Not that he wouldn’t be sort of dying at work tomorrow anyways with the condition he was in at the moment but it would be unwise to make it worse. It would have been worth the risk if there was something more he could have done about the guy that go away tonight. Hypotheticals weren’t going to get Matt anywhere. He would try again tomorrow. For tonight he was hoping that if he drank enough the pain would dull and that Foggy and Karen would just assume he was hungover. Well, hungover and experiencing normal Matt problems.

Technically speaking he should have gone to the hospital. The only reason he wasn’t there was that he really didn’t want to be. That guy had done a number on him, sure, but it Matt had gotten it worse before. He didn’t go to the hospital then, and obviously he’d lived to tell the tale. He’d survive this as well.

At least he wasn’t alone. Peter had been pacing around for maybe ten minutes. Matt wasn’t sure. Considering the time of night, or rather, morning Matt wondered if Peter was disturbing whoever lived in the apartment below him. It didn’t matter much. Matt doubted there would be any complaints made. No one had complained on all those nights screams came from the apartment.

Peter hadn’t said much. He didn’t even announce himself when he crawled in through the window. Now that Matt thought about it Peter might not have said anything at all. He knew it was Peter from the way he breathed and the cadence at which he walked. It couldn’t be anyone else even if he wasn’t acting like he usually did.

As much as Matt prayed for Peter to shut the fuck up whenever they went on patrol together he understood things were better that way. When Peter dropped the wisecracks, that’s when Matt knew it had become a real fight. At that point it was best for Matt to either get out of the way or help out. The one time he helped out had been more fun than Matt would be comfortable admitting. He almost smiled at the memory. That man was lucky to still have an arm.

But a Peter that was entirely silent. That was _bad_. A quiet Peter was a Peter at his most capable of doing bad things. Doing good did not come naturally to Peter. It was a part of what made him so endearing to Matt. He knew what it was to have the devil inside. Peter put forth actual effort to be good. However if something had gone horribly wrong then the effort got twisted. That and Peter would be quiet.

Matt took some fucked up comfort in that fact that obviously he wasn’t the only one having a terrible night. Hopefully Peter’s situation was entirely internal teen angst bullshit. He wasn’t cruel enough to wish on a night that was universally rough onto everyone.

He had only known Peter to be in this sort of headspace a few times. All in likeliness there were further incidents that Matt was unaware of. It would probably be for the best if it stayed that way.

The first time was before he actually met Peter. He had heard rumors about a thief in Queens who ran to turn himself in to the police sobbing and bleeding from the face. Matt didn’t connect it to Peter until later. At the time he was just glad someone had put the fear of god into the criminal.

He asked Peter about while Peter lounged on his couch watching tv. Matt hadn’t wanted a television. All the news he really needed was on the radio. If he wasn’t tuned in at the right time then Foggy was bound to cover what he’d missed when recapping the morning paper at work. The only reason he had the idiot box was because it had been the only way one of his clients could pay him. It really should have gone to Foggy or Karen.

Peter was the only person who used the damn thing. He knew for a fact that Aunt May owned a television that Peter was free to use. The stories she followed came up more than once and what Peter liked to watch was usually on so late that it was unlikely to conflict with the old woman.

Matt brought that up to him once and Peter just shrugged, “Yours is in color.”

He was unaware of that fact until Peter pointed it out. Of course, the only luxury he owned was something he could never appreciate. Even he could appreciate the irony. Matt suspected the whole truth probably involved not exactly wanting to go home yet, but he didn’t press the matter. He didn’t mind all that much.

It was a Friday night when Matt brought up the rumors of the crying thief he had suspected Peter had something to do with for some time. Matt only remembered it had been a Friday night because Peter was watching Star Trek. He hated that he knew when Star Trek was on and hated that he could even name some of characters. It was all Peter’s fault he even knew what Star Trek was. He doubted it would last another season.

Peter swallowed the pizza he’d been chewing on, “He was specifically a mugger.”

“Is that all you have to say?” It came out more in his lawyer voice than he intended it to.

“That chapter in my life is a bit of a blur, to be honest,” Matt thought that sounded ridiculous because Peter must have been fourteen when the incident happened and he was fifteen while they were having this conversation which was hardly enough time to move on to a new chapter but Peter kept talking before Matt could point that out, “What really matters is that the pizza you bought is horrible.”

“You’ve eaten five slices,” the fact that Matt agreed with Peter’s assessment didn’t matter.

“That’s how I know,” Peter said quickly as the commercial break ended.

Ultimately he finished off the pizza. He was a growing boy, so Matt would give him that.

The most recent time had been a month or so ago. It was the closest Matt had actually gotten to Peter in this state. He wasn’t sure exactly what Peter was doing but he heard the crunching bone and desperate gasps from the ground. Hearing someone struggle to breath was always worse than agonized screams. Matt hadn’t wanted to believe it was Peter at first.

He grabbed ahold of Peter from behind and lifted him up carrying him a short distance away. Peter was more than strong enough to break free, but he didn’t even struggle. He must have been choosing to let Matt pull him away. When Matt him down he propped him against a wall.

Matt waited until he thought he had given the person enough time to crawl a little ways away before saying anything, “Look, I understand. I understand better than anyone. But if I would have let you continue you would have killed that person.”

Peter didn’t respond. He didn’t even move. Matt could hear his heartbeat. It wasn’t erratic or pumping hard and fast. If anything he was calmer than Matt usually saw him.

He didn’t let that discourage him, “You have to control yourself.”

“I am controlling myself,” the words were quiet and filled with anger.

Matt almost wanted to step back but chose instead to step closer, “There are laws and codes we must abide by. There are lines we must not cross. We must uphold justice.”

Peter spat out a single word before running off, “Hypocrite.”

He kicked himself a little bit for not approaching it differently. Matt knew that Peter had a tendency to reject any sort of guidance or attempt at mentorship. His response to the Avengers (and the Fantastic Four and the that’s enough examples) recruitment attempt had been something else. Of course he would reject this.

Matt was only a part of Peter’s life at all because he had found out Peter’s secret identity of his own accord. He traced him to Midtown High. Peter was annoyed before he was impressed. The last thing he had expected was for Peter to turn around and insert himself into Matt’s life instead of avoiding him. It probably had something to do with the fact that Matt didn’t have the motivations of the others. He didn’t need Peter to like him. Hell, he didn’t even want Peter to like him.

The next morning Karen mentioned they had found a body close to where she lived. Matt tried not to jump to conclusions. So what if Peter had run in the direction of Karen’s apartments, people were murdered by not Peter Parker every night.

It wouldn’t be until Peter stopped by the office three days later that Matt would be able to fully relax. In retrospect nothing had been said to prove Peter wasn’t a murderer but it was soothing anyway.

Peter was close to the door, probably so he could make a quick exit if need be, “Sorry about the other night. It’s been a rough couple of days but it’s starting to turn around.”

Of course Karen answered before Matt could, “Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“How much do I really need history class?” he took a deep breath, “I mean in the long run. Do I really need to know all those facts and dates? I think this is way more important.”

Foggy opened the door for Peter, “Back to school.”

Peter was still for a moment before shuffling out, “Fine.”

Wherever he went after that Matt doubted it was school. Peter was known to patrol during the day from time to time.

Foggy closed the door, “Who was that?”

It was clear that Foggy was trying to keep his voice as open and non confrontational sounding as humanly possible. It was also clear that Foggy was probably glaring daggers at Matt.

Matt shook his head, “Nobody.”

There was no way Foggy and Karen actually believed that. He could practically feel them look at each other and decide if they wanted to press this further. Clearly they decided this was a battle not worth fighting as Karen immediately asked a question about coffee.

It was a Friday so sure thing Peter was at Matt’s apartment later that night watching Star Trek. Matt had the chance to ask Peter what was going on exactly but he didn’t take it. They weren’t the sort to tell each other of the trials and tribulations of their ‘real’ lives. Matt knew that Peter was a junior at Midtown High who lived with his widowed aunt and had a job at the Daily Bugle. As far as he was concerned that was too much. Nevermind all the tiny details he knew about Peter like his favorite place to get French fries and the way he played with the first trinket he could pick up when he was bored. Those were different. Those were the things he felt he should know.

That brought them to where they were now. Best case scenario Peter was here to keep himself from doing something regrettable and rash. Matt took another swig of his whiskey and tried to convince himself that was it.

Suddenly it crossed his mind that the lights weren’t on. Of course they weren’t on. Whenever Matt was just by himself the lights were off, and he hadn’t heard Peter turn them on. It wouldn’t surprise him if Peter didn’t really need to have the lights on to make his way around the apartment anymore. How Matt had let Peter come to find this place so familiar he couldn’t say.

The footsteps deviated from the path they had been repeating over and over. Peter was walking toward Matt now instead. Matt wasn’t sure what to expect and braced himself for every possibility except for the one that really happened. The one that really happened didn’t even cross his mind.

Peter kissed him. Matt didn’t really kiss back because too much was running through his mind.

On one hand he thought it was a good thing Peter’s first kiss wasn’t something ripped from a movie. That it wasn’t some grand romantic gesture after a long struggle. No one was being dipped. It was better for Peter to have something that felt real unlike some of the other things that happened to them. Too much of their lives seemed to have been ripped from B movies.

This was also far from normal or okay. No one’s first kiss should be so late at night it was early in a dark apartment. Okay, there were probably a lot of instances where those exact circumstances were fine. Either way no sixteen year old should be kissing a man of nearly thirty with whiskey on his breath.

And Matt was sure this was Peter’s first kiss. It was too clumsy and unsure to be otherwise. Peter was shy about it in a way Matt had never seen him be with anything else. He hated himself for thinking it was cute.

Matt broke away, “Why?”

Peter leaned back into Matt’s space so that his face was nearly against his immediately but was slow to actually respond, “I need someone to not talk to tonight.”

He was moving in for another kiss and their lips were nearly touching when Matt said, “I can’t.”

One of the first things that Matt came to understand about Peter was that he didn’t drink, smoke, or do drugs. He was only a kid, but Matt wasn’t naive enough to believe Peter’s peers were the same. Peter will never drink, smoke, or do drugs. Matt knew that already.

This was not because he was a good kid. Far from it actually. If Peter was going to seek out a vice, it was going to be physical. Up until now that had manifested itself purely through violence. When Peter felt bad he started a fight. Matt preferred it when Peter turned to him for a sparring match when the violence was only for the sake of easing internal pain. It was more controlled that way.

Peter was clearly not sick of violence. It was possible for Peter to have had enough fighting for one night, to be temporarily satisfied, but Matt couldn’t see him wanting to give it up forever. Maybe he recognized it couldn’t be the only thing that kept him going (which Matt understood was rich coming from him), and he was trying out a new physical vice right now.

Matt couldn’t take someone’s virginity the same night as their first kiss. It just felt conceptually wrong. It was the definition of too much too soon.

Leave it to Peter to want too much too soon. It had always been his way. Most people like them with a traumatic childhood experience waited until they were adults to put on a mask. They spent the years in between training and preparing. Making plans. Peter was going out as Spider-Man essentially the next day. Said he already had the mask and didn’t see any point in waiting. Not when there was already injustice in the world.

Now, Matt was more than capable of taking Peter’s virginity. He tried his best not to acknowledge it within himself but what he felt for the boy went deeper than affection. It just couldn’t be the same night as Peter’s first kiss ever. Not that mere act of taking Peter’s virginity wouldn’t be wrong too, but doing it right after Peter’s first kiss made it a million times worse for some reason.

The thought of sex with Peter had actually crossed his mind more than once. It was bound to with all the close contact sparring matches they did. He always banished those thoughts before Peter could notice he was having them. Still Matt had thought about it enough to know that if he took Peter’s virginity the guilt would destroy him afterwards. The anticipation of utter self loathing, however, would not be enough to keep him from the act, and he knew it. Hell, the guilt might not even be enough to prevent him from ever doing it again even once he’d started feeling it.

Peter shook his head softly sensing Matt’s concerns, “This is enough.”

He wasn’t the greatest kisser, but he was also very new at it. Matt could cut him some slack. All he needed was practice and he was doing his best to get some.

Some part of Matt was disappointed that he had overestimated Peter’s desire. Recognizing that caused Matt to feel another pang of disappointment towards himself. If Matt wasn’t wrong about what Peter wanted and Peter was just trying to ease into it, his resolve weakening as the night (morning?) went on was a possibility. A scary yet enticing possibility.

Matt kissed back this time. He might as well shake it up for confessional. The priest was probably getting bored of all the violence by now. Well, if he wasn’t already bored. Matt figured the priest could have only been traumatized to a certain point.

He broke away again, “Why me?”

He would have asked, “Don’t you have age appropriate friends you could be doing this with instead?” but he already understood that Peter didn’t quite have friends. Also Matt didn’t want Peter to think he wanted him to leave.

“Because… I don’t trust people but if I did I’d trust you,” it sounded almost as if it was painful to admit, “You get it.”

Matt honestly wasn’t sure if he did, not in its entirety at least, “I am not the sort of man you should hang your hopes on.”

“For most people or in most situations, absolutely. You’re not,” it was hard to tell from the tone of his voice if he was smiling or frowning.

During the third kiss Peter grabbed the sides of Matt’s face. That’s when Matt felt it. It was pretty dry but still unmistakable. Peter had blood on his hands.

**Author's Note:**

> If there was anything that went untagged that you think should have been tagged let me know. Thank you for reading!


End file.
